


cutting ties

by kermit_the_frog



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, But only a little, Choking, Knifeplay, Nonbinary Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Torture-roleplay, Trans Character, ryan uses they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kermit_the_frog/pseuds/kermit_the_frog
Summary: Ryan clenches their jaw from under the mask.“You should look people in the eye when they’re talking to you.” Ryan can feel the cold metal of a blade against the back of their neck. “It’s only polite.”Ryan keeps their eyes down and they can feel the sigh escape their captor’s lips. Can picture the disappointed look on his face. The blade is withdrawn and just as quick there’s a hand in their hair and Ryan’s head is forced roughly on it’s side. Forcing their gaze upwards to look the man straight in the eye.His fingers twist in their hair and Ryan groans.--Ryan and Jeremy try out some roleplay.





	cutting ties

The door behind them opens with a click and Ryan has to remind themself about their own breath. Keep it even. The footsteps take so long to make it around, is that supposed to intimidate them? They keep their head down any how. It’s important to maintain any control you can get in these situations. Plus the bindings are too tight for them to turn and face their captor.

A dark chuckle from just behind them almost makes Ryan jump, but they school themself. It just wasn’t what they were expecting.

“Well, well, well…” comes the  _ delighted _ voice, “It seems I’ve caught myself a  _ little Vagabond _ .”

A low growl emanates through Ryan’s chest.

The footsteps continue, still so painfully slowly. This anticipation had to be killing him as much as it was killing Ryan. Ryan’s eyes are still on their lap, not giving up so easily. The footsteps stop right in front of them and Ryan can see shoes, the ends of pants and nothing else.

“Listen, Vagabond, we both want this to be over. So if you want to speed things up, all I need is for you to tell me where the Fake’s coke shipments are being picked up from -” Their captor taps his foot, “- then we can both go home, alright?”

Ryan clenches their jaw from under the mask.

“You should look people in the eye when they’re talking to you.” Ryan can feel the cold metal of a blade against the back of their neck. “It’s only polite.”

Ryan keeps their eyes down and they can feel the sigh escape their captor’s lips. Can picture the disappointed look on his face. The blade is withdrawn and just as quick there’s a hand in their hair and Ryan’s head is forced roughly on it’s side. Forcing their gaze upwards to look the man straight in the eye.

His fingers twist in their hair and Ryan _groans_.

 

“Better,” he says and it’s sweet like sugar. Like the smile on his face.

Ryan bites their lip hard. The metallic taste on their tongue is a small price to pay for not making anymore involuntary  _ sounds _ .

“Vagabond, I don’t want to do this.” But Ryan knows he does. It’s the main event after all. Well, more like the prelude to the main event. The commercials before the movie. “But...”

The knife was back on their neck, blunt side sliding down their carotid, careful to not actually cut. Ryan just fixes him with a glare.

Make him work for it.

“...I will.”

There’s a pause. Both of them breathing heavy, eye contact prolonging the seconds to minutes. Then the knife moves carefully to a secure position on the collar of Ryan’s t-shirt. The sound of ripping tears through the moment like paper. The hand in Ryan’s hair releases, instead grabbing the edge of their shirt. Ripping the last bit through.

The blade glides lightly over their chest. Leaving behind pink raised skin and the occasional welling blood droplet. Ryan shudders from the stinging, tensing against their bindings and feeling their dick twitch. They’d been trying to keep reactions to a minimum but even as the skin of their lip breaks Ryan cannot keep a moan from escaping.

A moan that even in this scene Jeremy can mistake for nothing other than the arousal coursing through Ryan’s veins.

The evil chuckles do nothing to stop the blood flowing south when Jeremy- The Vagabond’s  _ captor _ presses the knife harder on their skin and with a swift flick of his wrist, slashes a shallow cut into their chest. Ryan swallows the sound this time.

“What was that,  _ Vagabond? _ ” And their captor flicks his wrist a second time, right next to the tender skin of the first cut and Ryan can’t help but hiss. “You’re not  _ enjoying _ this, are you?”

Ryan clenches their jaw again.

“You know, Vagabond, I’ve always wondered what was under that mask,” The knife traced lightly over their neck, “I think I’m going to have a little peek.”

Slowly, inch by inch, Jeremy takes off the mask. He rolls the teeth up, the knife following the progress to press cold metal against their swelling lip, “Aw, you’re bleeding,” Jeremy’s voice betrays no sympathy. “A shame you’d do that to such pretty things…” And Jeremy runs a finger over the broken skin.

The mask curls further and Jeremy takes his sweet time admiring every pore -every blemish, every hair- on Ryan’s face. The eyes of the mask are covered by this point but the care, the appreciative look Ryan can feel on Jeremy’s face has got their breath hitching. The anticipation buzzing under their skin.

Jeremy rips the mask the rest of the way off once he’s exposed Ryan’s eyes. He drinks Ryan in -the wide and blown out eyes, the split lip, the poorly hidden arousal and  _ fear _ . “Who knew under that mask, you were this beautiful.” He runs a hand through Ryan’s hair, tugging it lightly and watching enraptured as Ryan’s eyes flutter shut and their lips part ever so slightly.

A smirk pulls at Jeremy’s lips and Ryan remembered that this wasn’t Jeremy. Ryan -The Vagabond- had been captured. Their captor had a hand fisted in their hair and and evil look on his face, “I’m going to get that information from you one way or another,” The knife floats its way to their heart, “And maybe we’ll put those pretty lips to work, won’t we?”

Ryan swallows their whimper. 

Jeremy presses a knee to Ryan’s crotch and their pride is wearing thin enough that if the ropes weren’t too tight for them to rock their hips they might just do it.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget why you hid those locations in the first place,” Jeremy whisper’s into their hair, “But first, you’re going to  _ beg _ .”

And honestly Ryan can’t help it. They don’t try as the whine is pulled from them.

Jeremy’s free hand rests on Ryan’s cheek, his thumb held on their lips if just for that moment. He slides his fingers down their chin, and then further. Taking Ryan in with that look in his eyes. Hungry, memorizing every detail like he was going to paint a picture of this moment. Then his hand is reaches Ryan’s neck and his fingers spread over their throat, holding there. Pressing just hard enough to let Ryan know what he could be doing. That these hands could squeeze the life from them.

“But you’re going to tell me those locations.”

And Ryan has to stop themself from replying, from saying  _ yes _ , or even worse _ yes, sir _ .

“Let’s get started then,” Jeremy smiles. He shifts his thigh slightly, rubbing Ryan’s dick through their jeans as he breaks away. Ryan’s breath catches.

Ryan struggles for the words, the breath doesn’t seem to want to work in their mouth. Not forming into the shape of the word, “Never.” As well as it should.

Jeremy laughs, “N-nev-uh-er,” He imitates, smiling. “Is the big bad Vagabond nervous? Already?”

A low growl is the only dignified response Ryan can muster. Nervous? Not really. Hard? Definitely. For the purposes of the scene though Ryan clenches their jaw hard, pulling against the ropes as hard as they can. “I’m going to break every one of your ribs,” They say, low and threatening. If their voice wavers the sentiment makes up for it.

“Ooh-” Jeremy plants himself on their lap- “I love this dirty talk.” He pulls Ryan’s head back by their hair, knife catching the light just under their cheek bone. “What next?”

The blade runs a shallow cut running towards Ryan’s nose. They fix on Jeremy’s eyes even if Jeremy has his gaze firmly set on the careful progress of his knife. “Then-” Ryan’s breath catches as Jeremy rolls his hips in Ryan’s lap “-I’m going to pull off each of your toes. One by one. I’m going to hear each joint snap and you’re going to scream for me to stop.”

Jeremy pulls the knife off of their face and breathes hotly. Cheeks flushed. His hips buck again and he has to keep himself from moaning too.

Ryan smirks. It seems like their getting to be on even footing now.

“I hope you don't like your fingertips, because I’m going to cut those off,” Ryan says, holding on to any control they can get in this position, “but don’t worry if you  _ do _ like them. No, the rest of your fingers are coming off too. Segment by segment.”

A shudder runs through Jeremy straight to Ryan and suddenly Jeremy’s face was a lot closer. Forehead against forehead, “What’s next? Do you want to  _ strangle _ me?” Jeremy punctuates this by grabbing hold of Ryan’s neck and pressing his thumb hard against the bones of their throat.

It was Ryan’s turn to gasp.

“Choke me? Come on, Vagabond. Are you going to cut me up? Or maybe you want to watch me bleed out drop by drop?” Jeremy squeezes harder on Ryan’s neck, shallowing their breathing.

Ryan’s so hard right now it hurts. Jeremy’s slow constant rutting was the only relief. 

“I’m going to slice your chest open and make you watch me yank every last inch of intestine out.” Head swimming with the impeded oxygen there’s at least some sense of satisfaction when Jeremy pulls flush against them and breathes staggered breaths on to their lips.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jeremy says all low and quiet. His eyes are so intense in his own hand as he puts more and more pressure on Ryan’s throat and they can’t breath. They can’t breath and their neck hurts and their dick throbs white hot as their vision goes black on the edges.

And suddenly Ryan’s lungs fill with air again. That's what they register first, then it’s the the hand is gone and only seconds after, that Jeremy’s gone too. Not gone from sight, but Ryan whines high in their throat because their crotch is on fire and the only relief -the sweet slow movement of Jeremy’s hips- have gone.

“Nnngh-” Is all Ryan can manage, even as they try to pull themself together. To get back into the scene.“-Guhhnnnnggh.”

There’s a flicker on Jeremy’s face. Concern. It’s reassuring to Ryan even as they try to clear the brain fog of being choked. He pauses where he was, knife dangling uselessly by his side, waiting to see if Ryan’s okay or if it’s too much.

“I-I-I c-can’t fucking wait to see-” breathe, “to see you bleeding ou-out o-on the ground.”

It’s weak and jumbled and stupid but it’s the first thing that comes to mind and Ryan wants this to continue. They  _ need _ it.

It wipes the sympathy off of Jeremy’s face. He’s back to his smug, evil look and it doesn’t help Ryan catch their breath at all. Not that they really want to catch their breath. No. They want Jeremy to squeeze their throat until they pass out. Not that Ryan would say that. At least not in this scene.

“Last time I checked _ I _ had the knife,” Jeremy taunts. He does indeed have the knife and he makes a show of it running up Ryan’s clothed thigh and trailing up their stomach. Pressing harder and harder with each inch so by the time the knife reached their chest Ryan had streaks of blood dripping down onto their jeans.

The ropes creak as Ryan tries to buck their hips into nothing. The movement is so small and Ryan holds their breath. Pleading that maybe Jeremy didn’t notice.

But Jeremy’s eyes light up, not in surprise, but more like exactly what he’d been hoping for had finally happened. “I bet it’s getting pretty tight in those jeans, huh?” He presses his palm to Ryan’s crotch, confining the space even more but also providing the relief of  _ something _ touching their dick. He grinds his palm hard against their cock and Ryan can’t help but grind back using the infinitesimal give from the ropes.

Jeremy notices, grinning wider. 

“I bet you really want me to fuck you, don't you?” he unbuttons Ryan’s pants and slips his hand into their underwear. He presses his fingers past Ryan’s cock, instead pressing hard at their taint. It’s like he’s showing off how well he knows Ryan’s body as he knows he can brush against their prostate this way and he knows that there’s nothing else Ryan can do than let their head fall back, a sob escaping their throat as they try to fuck themself on something that isn’t there.

“I bet you’re already so loose,” Jeremy whispers, leaning in close, “I bet you do this all the time.” He presses again, harder, putting a constant pressure on their prostate and feeling Ryan leak with precum. “Did I even catch you? Or did you let me?” He imagines Ryan cumming now, soaking their underwear through and feels his own underwear grow wetter. “No you let yourself get caught, just like you do all the time. Hoping someone will do this, fuck you up until you’re a begging moaning mess.”

And Ryan is just that, they  _ whine. _ A high and keening note and Jeremy’s other hand is down his pants, rubbing himself through his underwear. Ryan’s noise breaks off into quick shallow breaths, shaking with the constant pressure on their prostate but unable to do more than sit and take what Jeremy will give them. They’re trying to breath, get enough air in their lungs to speak, “Pl-pl-pl-p-plea-se.”

“What was that?” Jeremy leans an ear in.

“I-I need… please. P-please.” Ryan’s brain gets no rest as Jeremy’s slow rubbing shoots stars behind their eyes.

“Please what?” Jeremy asks innocently, pressing harder.

Ryan groans low. Their hips buck involuntarily, cock dribbling precum. “Please. Please. Fuck. Fuck me!”

The pressure is gone and the only thing Ryan can do is blink and make soft whimpers. Then Jeremy’s hand is out of their pants and on their cheek. Ryan leans into the touch, unable to bring about the thought required to figure out where they wanted that hand or what they wanted from it.

“You’re going to tell me those locations first,” Jeremy says and it’s soft. Soft like his hand brushing knuckles across Ryan’s cheek and soft like brushing their hair behind their ear.

Ryan just stares at Jeremy. The internal struggle fighting in their head is visible in their eyes as their need to be fucked and their knowledge that none of this is real battles with that pure base instinct to protect and say nothing. That struggle ends when the hand on their cheek slides down their artery, down to lay on their neck once again. Not pressing. Just reminding of the light feeling in their brain, of their dripping cock.

“T-there’s a warehouse, Porter Street, it’s where w-we’re transporting it,” Ryan says, calming the sinking feeling in their stomach with ‘it’s not real, it’s not real’.

Jeremy sighs, bending down to get a hold of the knife that was just discarded on the floor. “No, no Vagabond,” Jeremy traces the path of the sinking guilt, drawing a new pink line into their stomach, “I need to know where you’re picking it up from.”

Ryan’s tongue is tripping over itself and they’re babbling, “O-on the twenty third. Twenty third and at the… at the docks. Dock, uh, dock,” Ryan screws their face up trying to breath but instead just making it worse, “I can’t. I can’t. I don’t know…”

Looking up into Jeremy’s face and panicking over the thought of the anger. They can’t handle anymore, they just need to be fucked stupid and they can’t remember the number of the dock. Jeremy’s face isn’t angry though, he looks concerned and he drops the knife and instead puts both his hands on Ryan’s face. They notice, slightly dizzily, that Jeremy’s left hand is damp.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy tells them and they nod, exhaling hard and letting their lungs fill back up again, “I’m sure I can find Ramsey at the docks. He does like to stand out.”

Jeremy stays there-in character, yes but doesn’t let Ryan go- until their breathing evens to an acceptable pace. Until the floating of Ryan’s brain has halted.

“Please, I need you,” Ryan begs, “I told you where. Fuck me, please. I need you. I need it. Please. Please.”

Jeremy kisses their face, kissing down the hot tear tracks Ryan didn’t realise were forming. How long had they been crying? But Jeremy’s mouth makes it to their chin and then right on their mouth and Ryan is openly sobbing now, trying as hard as they can to make Jeremy kiss them harder, faster, deeper. They can taste blood. Jeremy instead breaks away. “You deserve a reward for telling me. Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” They buck into nothing, “Please.”

Once again Ryan registers the absence before understanding what it means. Jeremy is no longer kissing them, no longer an inch from their mouth and when the cogs click in Ryan’s brain they look down to see him, knife in hand, tugging at the binds on their legs. The knife is sharp and cuts and tears through segment by segment, every twisted string fraying with a quick cut.

Once both of Ryan’s legs are free, Jeremy takes hold of their jeans and pulls them down, then takes a firm hold on Ryan’s hip and positions them so their ass hangs just off the chair. Ryan doesn’t move from there, shaking all over with sobs and anticipation. Jeremy kisses the inside of their thigh and sucks bruises in the join of leg to waist. Meanwhile he grabs the lube from underneath the chair, half his brain concentrating on nipping love bites into Ryan’s skin and the other half warming lube in his hands.

“Gah-” Ryan shudders “-I need you. Fuck… f-fuck.”

Jeremy licks a stripe up Ryan’s dick and slides his fingers over their ass, carefully pushing a finger in.

“O-oh,” Ryan gasps. They try to fuck themself back onto his fingers, tries to fit more inside themself.

Jeremy is careful, fucking Ryan with one finger and giving them just enough to have Ryan keep making those  _ wonderful _ noises. He pulls his finger out, then presses in two. Ryan’s ass clenches around his fingers and Jeremy takes Ryan’s cock into his mouth. He moans when Ryan bucks their hips hard into his throat and he fingers himself too.

It’s a bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach, fingering and blowing someone at the same time. That combined with trying to finger himself makes it hard to keep track so Jeremy just lets his mouth go slack jawed and presses a third finger into Ryan’s ass and lets them fuck his throat and themself on his fingers. The feeling of being used like this, of Ryan unable to control themself, fucking his throat hard -maybe hard enough that he wont be able to speak tomorrow- has him moaning as heat builds low in his abdomen.

Jeremy cums first, pulling off Ryan with a shout, fingers curling in himself and in Ryan involuntarily. The sight and the feeling of Jeremy’s orgasm hits Ryan hard and he cums hard and in streaks across Jeremy’s face. Their breathing is heavy as they look back at each other, question marks in their eyes.

“You good?” Jeremy says with a ragged voice. Jeremy isn’t sure how he feels about the crew noticing that tomorrow but he knows Ryan’s going to be pretty smug.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, sitting back up, “Yeah. Just, uh, maybe untie me and… um, I’m cold.”

Jeremy smiles and grabs the knife from the floor and makes his way over to cut Ryan loose. He gives Ryan a gentle kiss, pressing their foreheads together, “Whatever you need, I got it, okay?”

Ryan nods tiredly, kissing Jeremy sloppily, only catching the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”

A smile -not that evil one, the one that starts in his chest and spreads to his fingertips- breaks across Jeremy’s face, “Yeah, well, I love you too Ryan.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is so much and I'm sorry to those of you who read it. It got way longer than I thought it would. Any way I hope you enjoyed even though this /a lot/.


End file.
